Jersey Devil
by Flynt Coal
Summary: Gerard takes care of a devil the crew has chained in the basement. Oneshot, slight gore warning. Enjoy


"...rrrrRR…"

Gerard took a cautious peek down the stairwell, feeling his biting fear dissipate slightly when he caught the glowing red eyes exactly where they were supposed to be, though they were brimming with animalistic rage and bitter, cruel bloodlust. They had secured the beast pretty well, and redundantly in some places, but he couldn't help but let his fear creep into his head and make him wonder.

"You noticed I was here pretty quickly, huh." Gerard hummed and hit the switch, turning on the one dimming light in his basement, and while it barely helped light up the area, now he could far more easily see the creature bound in chains before him. As he walked towards the thing, it rattled and shook the chains violently, roaring with futile fury, and attempting to flap leathery wings in anger, even with one torn in tatters. He liked to chat with the thing, just to humor it in case it could understand what he was saying, as unlikely as it was. It was a crazed animal, and nothing more.

He shut his eyes and remembered that. Nothing more.

First, Gerard scanned over the constraints in an attempt to calm the worries in his head. While the panting, growling creature kept still, with it's cruel eyes on Gerard, passing a clear message of what sheer ecstasy it would find in seeing him dead, there was evidence it had been gnawing on the chains while he was upstairs.

"Don't be doing that, you fucker. You're not gonna get through those chains anyhow." Gerard didn't touch the chain or the hellbeast, and knew talking down to it wasn't going to teach it any lessons, but he wasn't willing to risk punishing it in a way that could get himself hurt. Gerard hated those fangs, long, needle-points that could saw through flesh like butter, and has done exactly that. Gerard found himself paling every time he looked at its mouth. Trained human beings with utmost caution using needles were terrifying enough, much less a rabid monster who would love nothing better than to fillet Gerard and wolf down every last string of muscle off his bones.

Even to the creature, he was lying. Him, Mikey, and Ray had taken those chains from an old swing set, in case they found this creature. Now that they have, there was no telling if the chains could actually hold it back for long.

"Rrrrr…" It growled again, as if in defiant response, and sniffed the air before shaking the chains aggressively again, shuffling it's bound claws in Gerard's direction.

"What, this?" Gerard revealed a wrapped hunk of beef from the general store from his jacket. "This isn't what you want, is it? Naaah..." He teased, waving the flesh around as the devil got even more voracious, howling and chomping at the air violently.

"I would have cooked it, but after what you did to my brother, I don't think you deserve it. So, raw it is." He tossed the meat at the beast, who gave a primal roar and tore into the meat, flailing it about, and crunching on it mercilessly, as if trying less to eat it and more to cause it as much pain as possible. Blood and meaty chunks splattered sickeningly all around the floor like a revolting arts and crafts project.

Gerard grimaced with disgust. "Do you have to? It's already dead." He looked around the room for the bloodsoaked washcloth.

His tone turned cold as he moved away from the chained creature. "You know, Ray called me. He said the hospital has Mikey in a sling, but he's going to be alright. Just a few months and his arm will heal. I don't forgive you, of course, and I don't regret breaking your wing either, but I thought you'd like to know that your prey got away. He's gonna live, and recover, and be just fine." Gerard smiled darkly, getting to his knees to wash the blood off the floorboards. He wondered for a second if the demon could understand him, as it flailed against the rattling chains and roared again with anguish and blood-red hatred after he finished talking, but on the other hand, it did that most of the time. The needle teeth came down on the constraints again, and Gee looked away, focusing on the mess of blood at his feet.

"All the blood and meat is kind of ironic, you know? Frank would have hated this. Frank's vegan, so this is the least Frank-like thing I could imagine. He would never do anything remotely like this. Ever." Something else leaked through his monotone voice, something shaky, as if he was telling himself this more than the creature.

He crouched in front of the demon, just out of reach, while it gave another low warning growl. "You have anything in you that feels disgusted by this whole thing? Any part of you at all, that would shun the very concept of what you've done?"

The thing in front of Gerard bared its fangs. He ignored the razorblade mouth in favor of looking into its deep red predatory eyes instead.

"Anything at all…? ...Frankie?"

Whether the creature's patience for Gerard's proximity ran out, or it harbored real hatred for the name, it lashed out again, roaring and pressing against the chains. Something snapped, and Gerard leapt to his feet in terror while the devil crashed onto the floor. He scrambled for a knife from his pocket, and pointed it at the mockery of his dear friend, now flailing about on the floor.

To Gerard's great relief, the only chain that seemed to have broken was holding it's back directly to the wall. It was still restrained, and presented no further threat besides the newfound ability to hit it's face on the floor. Even so, Gerard gave a cautious walkaround to ease his mind.

He sighed, letting his anxiety and surge of adrenaline simmer down with each breath. The facedown monster flopped towards him and hissed, fully unaware of how pathetic it looked, and Gerard let himself break his fear with a soft chuckle. "Well, are you proud of yourself? Is this what you wanted?"

He couldn't find himself sitting comfortably with the snapped chain, though, even if the thing was was still constrained. Something he couldn't explain dug at his mind that he probably shouldn't keep that broken chain as is. He peeked around the web of chains gingerly, seeking out the broken chains, until a guttural groan came, the only warning for a mass array of snapping fangs following shortly after. Gerard cringed at the roaring needles before him, starting to feel faint. Maybe it'd be better to keep his distance after all.

Feeling especially woozy now, he figured he'd go upstairs to get a glass of water. As he walked back towards the stairs, something tugged at him to deal with the broken chain, even now, but… he hesitated, looking back at the restraints with reluctance. Gerard had a bad feeling about it; if that thing could break one of the links, it was only a matter of time before… no, no, he couldn't safely get close without getting hurt. He shook his head, knowing it wasn't worth the risk of letting the beast injure him, especially with Ray and Mikey away at the hospital. The moonlight reflecting off sarraded fangs, still stained with blood from the meat, were enough to solidify his decision. They'd reinforce the binding when Ray got home, Gerard ultimately decided, and began walking back up the stairs, confident in his decision. Despite how sure he felt about it, however, a small drop of doubt dug in his mind, and the fact that something behind him sounded a lot like another chain snapping didn't help change that, either.

"Whew! Don't like driving in these woods at night, I'll tell you. Especially after all this drama." Ray parked carefully.

"Well, it's not like there's anything to be afraid of now, we've got the monster thing all tied up." Mikey poked at the bandages around his arm, enjoying the last few moments where the cast would be pure white before his brother would insist on drawing all over it.

"As long as Gee's been good about it. But I doubt he wouldn't be."

Mikey scoffed. "Oh, please. That thing just needs to look vaguely like Frank again for a second and Gee would be all too emotional not to release it. And then, bam! Ripped to shreds."

Ray looked visibly concerned. "You really think that could happen?"

"Nah, I'm just joking." Mikey pulled at the rustic cabin door. "Gerard's pretty shaken about the whole thing, understandably, but he's not stupid. He knows that's not Frank. He-"

Mikey's words clogged the back of his throat, and his shoulders tensed with alarm. "Ray, grab the fucking bat." He whispered harshly. Ray looked over Mikey, eyes widened, and obediently grabbed a baseball bat from the back of the truck.

There was Gerard's favorite cup, full of water, and one of the comics he's had to reread several times due to the lack of variety they had, only instead of a sleepy, sarcastic older brother hunched over the comic in the same scene, a splatter of blood covered the knocked-over chair, and the floor leading up to a gaping hole in the basement door.

"Ray-" Mikey breathed.

"It's okay, Mikey. We've caught him once, we can do it again. We gotta find Gerard first, okay? Hey, stay with me, Mikes."

"Rayyy-" Mikey almost wheezed with terror.

"Shh, it's okay. It's okay. We don't know anything. He could be fine, or at least alive. It's okay. Okay?" Ray continued to reassure Mikey, who was now shaking.

"Yeah… yeah, okay… let's go into the basement."

Ray frowned with concern. "Are you sure you want to come too? It's gonna be hard to protect yourself with just one arm."

"We can't split up. Not now." He had no hesitance in his words. He wasn't wrong. Despite his best efforts to be logical and calculated in this situation, it was clean how distraught Mikey was.

Ray knew couldn't leave him like this. "Good point."

The pair creaked open the broken door, and shuffled slowly down the steps of the basement with utmost caution, silently swearing at every sound their footsteps made.

Fear crept in Ray's head as he peeked around the corner, not seeing the red eyes where they were meant to be. They were nowhere to be seen, in fact. The small trail of blood at their feet disappeared below into the darkness, and nothing else revealed itself beyond, much to their dismay.

"Should I turn the light on?"

Ray hesitated, then nodded. The old bulb glowed weakly, showing little more past what they've already seen, besides a longer blood trail, and, as they've both already guessed, an empty lump of broken chains at the back of the wall… and something dark in the corner, something covered in blood.

"Gee? Fuck, Gerard!" Mikey's heart jumped, and he scrambled down the stairs, running on pure instinct desperately towards his brother.

"Shit, Mikey, don't!" Ray reached desperately at Mikey, but his efforts were in vain. Mikey was already at Gerard's side.

Something hissed behind Mikey, and he perked up in terror, realizing his mistake. Familiar red eyes met his own, and in but a second after, a row of deadly teeth was flying towards him, and he was helpless to move at all.

Blood flew into Mikey's face, but it wasn't his. He wasn't hurt. He wasn't dead, not yet. He looked up with a confused, adrenaline-high daze, and realized Ray was standing over him, beating the monster with the bat in desperation. The thing turned around towards it's new assailant with hatred so hot Mikey could feel the heat of it prickle his skin. With frightening agility, it lept at Ray, colliding flat into his chest, and taking him to the ground. Mikey couldn't stand to watch what was sure to follow, and scampered to his feet, making his way up the stairs as quickly as his feet could carry him.

He went not without notice, however. The demon wasn't going to let Mikey get away that easily, it seemed. He picked up the pace when he heard his pursuant claw it's way up the stairs and along the walls, shortly behind Mikey. He rounded the table clumsily, and grappled with the front door, a process that simply run his distance between him and the monster dry. Before he managed the door, the thing slammed into his back much like it had tackled Ray. Hot claws dug into his back, refusing to relent, and Mikey screeched as warm blood ran down his back.

The creature on his back hissed slowly into his ear, letting Mikey time to drink in his doom, and let the demon savour every moment of it. It's hiss was heavy, laced, and animalist, but… it may had been his brain messing with him in a moment of sheer panic, but, between his desperate breaths, Mikey could have almost made out words.

"Gerard was wrong, Mikey."

"Fr… Frank? Is that you? Frankie, please, you can't-"

"My prey doesn't get away."

Burning, blood soaked fangs filled Mikey's vision, then it was flooded by deep, bold red.

Then, nothing else.


End file.
